It's unusual for an old owner to stick around, much less be welcomed for so long by a place he once ruled. But City Paper is a strange place.

Troy Johnson has wrestled with some of Philadelphia's biggest, baddest weeds, and he knows what it takes to get them out.

My contribution to our marriage's longevity was to love, honor and obey.

Making peace is hard. It takes planning, and it takes courage to lay down arms and search for humanity in the heart of your enemy. So, blessed are the peacemakers, about a hundred of whom assembled last weekend at Moore College of Art & Design.

Precise word choice matters, especially in the news biz.

People here will tell you that what he's accused of is wrong. But many found all sorts of ways to justify it. Call it hometown pride.

Long ago, the nearby Strawberry Mansion manor once served homegrown berries and sweet cream to its visitors. But the strawberry fields of the eponymous estate disappeared long ago.

Sister Mary Elizabeth Clark has great experience ministering to those with environmental angst — that sick feeling of being a powerless accomplice in the planet's destruction.

Located at the north end of a runway, near I-95 on Bartram Avenue, its patchwork of browns and greens, dotted with ramshackle sheds, might be mistaken for a squatter's village. Like a blot to be erased — which is apparently the Nutter administration's intention.

In 1987, the 5-foot-3 mom said "no" to drug dealers who'd turned this lot, the size of a block, into an open-air bazaar. With some 20 neighborhood women calling themselves Grupo Motivos, Brown tossed out the dealers, strung up barbed wire and locked the gate. Over the years, no one's come forward as the women planted gardens and put up fences in six more lots.